


Do Whatever Just to Stay Alive

by jonessjughead



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Also Lafayette apprears, Frottage, I'm Bad At Tagging, It's raining and they have post battle adrenaline, M/M, My writing includes a game called involve dicks without mentioning dicks, PWP, also I'm sorry that I called y'all y'all, barn fucking, but like at the end, but like fucking in the barn, he just wants to stay dry, i mean it's still like. mature without being graphic af i guess, i write with historical heights in mind and im sorry, i'm sorry that i suck at tagging yall, no strict mentions of peen here, pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8743345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonessjughead/pseuds/jonessjughead
Summary: “I like to consider myself a sensualist, sir,” answered John, nosing Alexander’s shirt collar out of the way to suck at his collarbone, hands planted firmly on the smaller man’s hips. “We’re alive- best to celebrate the sentiment in any way we can manage.” 
Alexander and John find themselves taking shelter from the rain in a post-battle adrenaline haze. The tags say I'm bad at tagging so the summary has to say that I'm also bad at summaries (but yeah that's the gist).





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting around collecting dust in a google doc for literal MONTHS so I mean. Here it is? Also the title came from the song Stay Alive by Jose Gonzalez (and is also on my Lams playlist coughs..) So yeah here you guys go~

As always, the entirety of the army found it a goddamn miracle John Laurens wasn’t dead. Alexander was shoving his way through the throngs of tired soldiers, looking for John- he needn’t look far really, because he could hear him, hear him hollering and prideful and _alive_ , and when he came into Alexander’s view the lad was grinning at the sky and cursing the bloodbacks that chose to set foot into their territory, eyes still full of fire as he caught sight of Alexander and crashed into him. They threw their arms around each other, tightly, briefly, until Alexander held John at arm’s length to be sure the blood staining the man’s uniform- the blood he’d complain about, the stains he would write about with resentment- wasn’t his own.

“We won!” John shouted in his ear, and Alexander found himself half dazed, grinning right back because they won, they _won_ ; they were tired, exhausted, and yet _elated_. John was half dragging him over the battlefield, arm looped around his waist while Hamilton clutched at his shoulders, stumbling along while John shook him, shook the gunshots from his ears and the blood from his eyes until he was laughing too, clinging right back because _not this time_. Not this time, neither of them died, neither of them were wounded, a miracle, a goddamn miracle.

Alexander was the one that actually caught sight of the barn in front of them, because John was tucked against his neck, tugging at the man’s collar while nearly knocking his own hat off to mouth at the skin hidden there. John was energized, laughing and mumbling against Alexander’s throat until he finally pulled John up into a proper kiss, while John took hold of Alexander’s hat but didn’t toss it aside, clutched it close into the man’s shoulder blades, and Alexander realized it was actually starting to rain a little, it wasn’t blood or sweat, it was _rain_ to wash away the battle, and John huffed in aggravation when Alexander pointed it out, unwrapping himself from Alexander to finally do battle with the barn door, shouldering it open just enough to slip inside, dropping Alexander’s hat to catch his own; Alexander nearly fell, stumbling through when John gripped his collar and tugged. He yanked Alexander through the doors, nearly sent them both tumbling to the ground, kissing him hard, until they were both breathless and Alexander had to wonder if they weren’t going to die not from battle but lack of air. “We won, John, we’re alive, won’t you take a moment to appreciate the fact?” John was pulling at Alexander’s coat, working the buttons open while Alexander knocked the lad’s hat from his head to get his attention.

“I am,” John answered with a devilish grin, fire of battle and lust in his eyes; Alexander should have figured, really, he should have, dragging John away from his neck again. John, in turn, shoved at Hamilton’s coat until it slipped from his shoulders, until he could use the brief leverage of Alexander’s arms trapped behind him a moment to tug at his own coat, attaching himself teeth first to Alexander’s neck; Alexander absolutely _hissed_ and he’d put down his earnings that that was a _laugh_ from John. “I appreciate life in one of its best forms- steeped in pleasure,” he breathed, that grin dancing in Alexander’s vision when he freed his arms and took hold of John.

“You absolute hedonist.” John’s smirk only grew, and he shucked his coat, pulling Alexander close and stumbling back until he crashed into the wall outside a stall. Alexander took the opportunity of seeing John quite literally backed into a wall to take hold of his shirt front and kiss him hard, fingers fumbling over the buttons of the man’s waistcoat, until John took hold of him by the hair and tugged. He shoved Alexander against the wall so hard he had to recover his breath a moment, dazed by the feeling of John mouthing along his neck, a knee working between his legs, and his waistcoat dropping to the ground- when had John gotten his hands on the buttons? He couldn’t quite be sure.

“I like to consider myself a sensualist, sir,” answered John, nosing Alexander’s shirt collar out of the way to suck at his collarbone, hands planted firmly on the smaller man’s hips. “We’re alive- best to celebrate the sentiment in any way we can manage.” Alexander finally let his head loll back with a soft laugh- of course John would try to talk with innocence when that thigh was pressed rather insistently to his groin and he was marking a path of bites along his already sweat-sticky neck, of course he would. John pulled at his hips, knocked him just a little more off balance, and Alexander would have felt shame if it were anyone else, he was sure of it, and yet, here he was, alive, with John, letting the man kiss him breathless and rutting against his leg like a bitch in heat, caught between John and the wall, working at the man’s waistcoat again when he could find a moment, when John _gave_ him a moment. “Ah, Hamilton, you call _me_ the hedonist, and here you are, searching after _your_ pleasures.” His words were teasing, and Alexander pulled at the tie of John’s breeches.

“I’ll take what’s given to me without complaint, you should find yourself so inclined,” Alexander answered on the back of a moan when John rucked up his shirt, worked his hands along every inch of skin he could reach.

“That’s why I’m so inclined to take _you_ , Alexander,” and _god_ if his name on John’s lips didn’t light fire in him, and John saw it, saw it and _smiled_ , tipped them little by little until they went tumbling hard through the gaping maw of the missing gate, into the straw, poking and itching and yet so very _wonderful_. John wasted no time, hitching Alexander’s shirt up again and working along the newly exposed skin with lips and teeth until he used his _mouth_ , his obscene, devilish mouth, to pull at the ties of Alexander’s breeches.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but if you’re to keep your mouth down there I’m afraid our time will run short.” John worked his way back up with smiling kisses along Alexander’s stomach and chest.

“Oh, I know. You commonly find yourself entranced where my mouth is concerned.” Alexander scoffed, squirmed under John’s attentions.

“If only you put as much energy into- _taking me_ , was it?- as you are running your mouth,” Alexander taunted, kicking his legs to assist the removal of his boots- they were lost somewhere in the half-dark of the barn, in the hay, and John grabbed hold of the legs of his trousers and pulled, bent down again to use that incessantly running mouth to leave a trail of bites on Alexander’s bare thighs, until the lad was kicking, squirming to be free, swearing and gasping. “If you feel so very inclined to tease me, I’ll prepare myself and return the favor.” John perked up a little, head tipped curiously.

“So very bold of you. Am I dragging in my affections, love?” Alexander only narrowed his eyes. “Very well.” He sucked his fingers into his mouth, smirking steadily until Alexander also took his fingers into his mouth, shoving himself up with his free hand until he straddled John’s thighs, took hold of his shirt front to keep himself upright. John, in turn, almost choked at the sight of him, eyes as dark and observant as they were when he saw a challenge, and he saw a challenge in John. “Bleeding hell, Alexander,” he murmured around his fingers, and the lad took care to put on a show, remind John just how very talented his tongue was before he laid his head against John’s shoulder and worked his legs further apart, reaching down until he let out a short breath against John’s neck, fingers grasping tighter to his shirt while John stopped sucking his fingers and could only gape at the man curled, twisted against him, fucking himself slowly but steadily on his own fingers.

“How long’s it been since we’ve had a moment, John? Shame you can find patience where most would have none.” John lifted the hem of Alexander’s shirt- no, he wasn’t mistaken. There he was, so shamelessly pleasuring himself, preparing himself. Alexander, when he caught the man’s eye, only grinned in a manner that mirrored John’s all too well.

“Christ, Alexander- _hell_ ,” he added when the squirming lad only keened into his shoulder, and John dropped his fingers from his mouth and instead captured Alexander in a kiss that was mostly just frantic need. “ _Alexander_ ,” he started.

“You will _wait_ good sir, after all, there is no pleasure that accompanies _damage_.” John nuzzled Alexander’s neck, murmuring the sweet affections he could think. He stripped his shirt the moment Alexander gave it a half-hearted tug, finally shifting in John’s lap and bringing up both hands to his shoulders, working his mouth along John’s throat. “I’d ask you to behave as a gentleman if I took you for such.”

John wrapped an arm around Alexander, palm laid against the dip of the man’s back, laying him in the hay again, and while John worked at his breeches, at slicking himself with spit, Alexander shucked his shirt without a care, hay poking and prodding at his skin and yet he took no care, just grinned at John and kept his legs spread, clad only in stockings- the only thing he cared not to remove, pointless as it seemed. He locked his ankles together when John entered him, when he could wrap his legs around the man’s waist, John’s palms itching in the hay while Alexander laid his own on freckle-ridden shoulders, dug his nails in until finally he ordered the man to _move, John, dear god_ , and really, he hardly needed to be told again, thrusting and rutting, the pair of them, more frantic than loving, but just after battle, they couldn’t really care to find a difference; not while John tucked his face into Alexander’s neck, and not while Alexander so readily clung to him, leaving marks with his nails along John’s shoulders, clutching him as close as he could manage, head tipped back and voicing his moans while John tried to keep himself quiet, cut off the pair of them in a hard kiss.

Instead of sweat and dirt they were coated in sweat, dirt, hay, and the unmistakable stench of sex. Alexander was the one nursing a rather large love bite on his collarbone- it would only get darker with time- while John rolled his shoulders and tried to gauge just how many scratches Alexander dragged down his back, both tired and far too lazy to pick at the hay sticking to them for the moment.

“Should I come back?” John started, while Alexander eyed his hat, clutched in LaFayette’s hands, dripping wet; he’d left it outside like a fool. “It’s raining. I could find elsewhere to take shelter.” Alexander draped himself over John, refused to budge and so John traced the constellations on Alexander’s back instead. Alexander played with the undone tie of John’s breeches- haphazardly pulled up.

“Go back out in the rain? You’d catch your death out there, _monsieur_ ,” Alexander answered without a care. “You must get out of those wet clothes, I beg of you. The jacket, and waistcoat, at least. Have pity on our informalities and lay with us a while.” Lafayette looked on the verge of laughing, really, hanging Alexander’s hat on a loose nail before he shrugged off his coat.

**Author's Note:**

> yikes so thanks for sticking through till the end? Y'all are awesome <3 Feel free to comment, kudos, give a vague nod of 'eh, alright', and thanks for reading!


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